| 4644
plains and passed every experience; herder,
hunter, pony-express rider, stage driver,
wagon master in the quartermaster's de-
partment, and scout of the army, and was
first brought to my notice by distinguishing
himself in bringing me an important dis-
patch from Fort Larned to Fort Hays, a
distance of sixty-five miles, through a sec-
tion invested with Indians. The dispatch
informed me that the Indians near Larned
were preparing to decamp, and this intelli-
gence required that certain orders should
be carried to Fort Dodge, ninety-five miles
south of Hays. This too being a particu-
larly dangerous route--several couriers
having been killed on it--it was impossible
to get one of the various "Petes," "Jacks,"
or "Jims" hanging around Hays City to
take my communication. Cody, learning of
the strait I was in, manfully came to the
rescue, and proposed to make the trip to
Dodge, though eh had just finished his
long and perilous ride from Larned. I
gratefully accepted his offer, and after a
short rest on the way, and then only for an
hour, the stop being made at Coon Creek,
where he got another mount from a troop
of cavalry. At Dodge he took some sleep,
and then continued on to his own post--Fort
Larned--with more dispatches. After rest-
ing at Larned, he was again in the saddle
with tidings for me at Fort Hays, General Hazen sending him, this time, with word that the
villages had fled to the south of Arkansas. Thus, in all, Cody rode about 350 miles in less
than sixty hours, and such an exhibition of endurance and courage at that time of the year,
and in such weather, was more than enough to convince me that his services would be ex-
tremely valuable in the campaign, so I retained him at Fort Hays till the battalion of the
Fifth Cavalry arrived, and then made him CHIEF OF SCOUTS."
Read through the fascinating book, "Campaigning with Crook (Major-General George
Crook, U. S. A.) and Stories of Army Life," due to the graphic and soldierly pen of Captain
Charles King, of the U. S. Army; published in 1890.
Incidentally the author refers in various pages to COL. CODY as Scout, etc., and testifies
to the general esteem and affection in which "BUFFALO BILL" is held by the army.
The subjoined extracts from the book will give our readers an excellent idea of the
military scout's calling and its dangers:
"By Jove, General!" says "BUFFALO BILL," sliding backward down the hill," now's our
chance. Let our party mount here out of sight, and we'll cut those fellows off. Come down
every other man of you."
Glancing behind me, I see CODY, TAIT, and "CHIPS," with five cavalrymen, eagerly
bending forward in their saddles, grasping carbine and rifle, every eye bent upon me, watching
for the signal. Not a man but myself knows how near they are. That's right, close in, you
beggars! Ten seconds more and you are on them! A hundred and twenty-five yards--a
hundred--ninety--"Now, lads, in with you."
There's a rush, a wild ringing cheer; then bang, bang, bang! and in a cloud of dust.
CODY and his men tumble in among them, "BUFFALO BILL," closing on a superbly accoutred
warrior. It is the work of a minute; the Indian has fired and missed. CODY's bullet tears
through the rider's lef into the pony's heart, and they tumble in a confused heap on the
prairie. The Cheyeene struggles to his feet for another shot, but CODY's second bullet hits
the mark. it is now close quarters, knife to knife. After a hand to hand struggle, CODY | 4644
plains and passed every experience; herder,
hunter, pony-express rider, stage driver,
wagon master in the quartermaster's de-
partment, and scout of the army, and was
first brought to my notice by distinguishing
himself in bringing me an important dis-
patch from Fort Larned to Fort Hays, a
distance of sixty-five miles, through a sec-
tion invested with Indians. The dispatch
informed me that the Indians near Larned
were preparing to decamp, and this intelli-
gence required that certain orders should
be carried to Fort Dodge, ninety-five miles
south of Hays. This too being a particu-
larly dangerous route--several couriers
having been killed on it--it was impossible
to get one of the various "Petes," "Jacks,"
or "Jims" hanging around Hays City to
take my communication. Cody, learning of
the strait I was in, manfully came to the
rescue, and proposed to make the trip to
Dodge, though eh had just finished his
long and perilous ride from Larned. I
gratefully accepted his offer, and after a
short rest on the way, and then only for an
hour, the stop being made at Coon Creek,
where he got another mount from a troop
of cavalry. At Dodge he took some sleep,
and then continued on to his own post--Fort
Larned--with more dispatches. After rest-
ing at Larned, he was again in the saddle
with tidings for me at Fort Hays, General Hazen sending him, this time, with word that the
villages had fled to the south of Arkansas. Thus, in all, Cody rode about 350 miles in less
than sixty hours, and such an exhibition of endurance and courage at that time of the year,
and in such weather, was more than enough to convince me that his services would be ex-
tremely valuable in the campaign, so I retained him at Fort Hays till the battalion of the
Fifth Cavalry arrived, and then made him CHIEF OF SCOUTS."
Read through the fascinating book, "Campaigning with Crook (Major-General George
Crook, U. S. A.) and Stories of Army Life," due to the graphic and soldierly pen of Captain
Charles King, of the U. S. Army; published in 1890.
Incidentally the author refers in various pages to COL. CODY as Scout, etc., and testifies
to the general esteem and affection in which "BUFFALO BILL" is held by the army.
The subjoined extracts from the book will give our readers an excellent idea of the
military scout's calling and its dangers:
"By Jove, General!" says "BUFFALO BILL," sliding backward down the hill," now's our
chance. Let our party mount here out of sight, and we'll cut those fellows off. Come down
every other man of you."
Glancing behind me, I see CODY, TAIT, and "CHIPS," with five cavalrymen, eagerly
bending forward in their saddles, grasping carbine and rifle, every eye bent upon me, watching
for the signal. Not a man but myself knows how near they are. That's right, close in, you
beggars! Ten seconds more and you are on them! A hundred and twenty-five yards--a
hundred--ninety--"Now, lads, in with you."
There's a rush, a wild ringing cheer; then bang, bang, bang! and in a cloud of dust.
CODY and his men tumble in among them, "BUFFALO BILL," closing on a superbly accoutred
warrior. It is the work of a minute; the Indian has fired and missed. CODY's bullet tears
through the rider's lef into the pony's heart, and they tumble in a confused heap on the
prairie. The Cheyeene struggles to his feet for another shot, but CODY's second bullet hits
the mark. it is now close quarters, knife to knife. After a hand to hand struggle, CODY |
